


Be Prepared

by Kookaburra42



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Comedy, Disney References, Family Dynamics, Height Differences, Minor Violence, Other, Platonic Kissing, Queerplatonic Relationships, Silly, Snarky Elves, Spooky, The Author Regrets Nothing, Villains, Weapons, how much sarcasm is too much sarcasm?, irregular updates, just warning you, this is in no way serious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kookaburra42/pseuds/Kookaburra42
Summary: Melkor is very good at being evil, but very bad at feelings and grammar.  Sauron is very good at grammar and being evil, but definitely not feelings.  Everyone else is very sick of their shenanigans.  No one is surprised when things go wrong--but hey, at least there are snacks!(In other words, the Silmarillion if it was one of Disney's 2D animated movies.)
Relationships: Gothmog (Lord of Balrogs) & Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor, Gothmog (Lord of Balrogs) & Sauron | Mairon, Gothmog (Lord of Balrogs) & Thuringwethil, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor & Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor & Thuringwethil, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon, Sauron | Mairon & Thuringwethil
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Be Prepared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inkstained_Dreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkstained_Dreamer/gifts).



> *ducks and runs* Inkstained_Dreamer and I were talking on tumblr and came up with Disney villain!Melkor. Of course, I had to write it, and then this monstrosity happened! Melkor's characterization is primarily based on villains like Maleficent, Yzma, or Cruella de Vill, while Sauron is basically just a tired version of Scar. *Insert 'I'm surrounded by idiots' gif here* Hope you all enjoy!

Maedhros spat bloody hair out of his face. “I will tell you _nothing,_ Morgoth!” The Dark Lord snarled, white fangs stark against his scarlet mouth. 

“How dare you call me such a name, you insolent little pustule? I’ll murder you so badly Eru won’t even know what to do with you!” A loud sigh echoed from beside him suddenly, and Melkor’s head snapped to the side. “What, Sauron?” 

“Murder him _so badly?_ That does not make any sense; you either murder him or you do not.” 

“I’m being dramatic!”

“Why?”

“He called me Morgoth and you _know_ how much I hate that name, Sauron, _really!”_

“You should have thought of that before you stole the Silmarils,” Sauron muttered. 

“They’re mine now, and those _brothers_ are trying to take what I’ve rightfully stolen!” Melkor snipped, then cleared his throat. “Ahem. Anyway. Call me that again and I will kill you. Got it, dearie?”

The Elf paled, then gritted his teeth. “I will call you what I—agh!” Melkor slapped him across the face. 

“Shut it, _Elf._ You have no _will_ but what I demand of you!” 

“You think yourself so powerful as to command my free will?” 

“Well, I mean, he did just say that…” 

“Thank you, Sauron! Now, Lungorthin, take this piece of filth to the dungeons. I’m sick of his face.” Lungorthin, a Balrog lord, stepped forward and hit the Elf hard over the head, then dragged him off, muttering about how he wasn’t paid enough for this idiocy and it wasn’t _his_ job to lug around nancy Elvish prisoners. 

Langon, who was writing the whole thing down, stifled a laugh at the Balrog’s mutterings. 

Sauron sighed for the third time. “Now what?” 

“What do you mean, now what?” 

“What do you think I mean?” 

“I was going to eat something, but I don’t want to anymore. That stupid Elf made me lose my appetite.” Melkor draped an arm over his throne’s armrest and sighed aggressively. “I hate Elves. They make everything _so_ much more difficult. Why can’t they see I’m just infinitely superior to them?” 

Sauron shrugged. “Perhaps they believe themselves superior to you?” 

“Impossible! That’s just…argh! Now I want to kill something. Langon! Get my hammer!” Melkor shrieked, hurtling to his feet. 

“Of course, my lord.” The secretary saluted and ran off. 

“Sauron, join me for a bit of murder? You look pale…er than usual.” 

“All right, I suppose.” Sauron stretched and followed after Melkor. “Might as well do something useful today…” 

* * *

“Pass me another unimportant Elf.” 

Sauron shoved one of the whimpering creatures forward, then leaned back against the wall. Melkor stabbed the Elf in the stomach and sighed. “See, now I’m hungry. Ugh! Of all the infernal, stupid, unbelievable things!” 

“Hmph.” 

“Oh, and I’m stupidly cold--why is this place so _awful?”_

“It’s a dungeon, Melkor.” Sauron raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine. Well, I’m getting out of here. You’re welcome to join me.” Melkor extended a hand with a smile. 

“I will. I’m tired.” 

“Tired?” It was Melkor’s turn to arch an eyebrow. 

“Thuringwethil is irritatingly energetic at ungodly hours,” his lieutenant said bluntly. 

“Oh. Where is she?” 

“Sleeping. You said something about leaving?” 

“Ah yes. Let’s get out of this wretched place. Pull the lever, Sauron!” 

Sauron pulled the lever. Melkor shrieked suddenly, arms flailing as the floor opened up underneath him. “WRONG LEVER!” 

Two minutes later, he returned, sopping wet and grumbling. “Why do we even _have_ that lever?” 

Sauron snickered and pulled the other lever. This opened a passage of stairs, which would lead to Melkor’s chambers. 

Climbing the stairs was easy, but annoying--it took a while, and Melkor was very cold and wanted to sleep. 

It didn’t help that Sauron (who practically _radiated_ heat) was standing _behind him._ This was distinctly not a good thing, but then, even if he was in front of him, Melkor would still be cold. 

_And I’ve had a brilliant idea. Let’s see…I turn myself into a flea, a teensy little flea. Then, I fly up onto his shoulder and there I stay until we arrive and THEN--_

Sauron stretched and Melkor whipped his head around. _Or, to save time and prevent possible injuries, I could just get him to carry me._

“You’re carrying me the rest of the way,” Melkor informed his lieutenant. 

“Fine. Just don’t squirm like you normally do.” 

“Deal.” Melkor swung himself up so that Sauron could hold him with one arm under his legs and the other around his back. 

By the time they got to Melkor’s rooms, Sauron was grumbling because the front of his tunic was soaked. “You could have dried yourself off, you know,” he snapped. 

“Meh. I was in too much of a bad mood to care.” Melkor strolled off to his wardrobe, flung his current garments into a heap on the floor, and changed swiftly into a simple tunic and leggings. Sauron, being Sauron, simply did what was most efficient and took off his outer layers of tunics. 

Barely a minute later, the two of them had buried themselves in blankets. It was a strangely soft moment: they were curled close together, Melkor’s head tucked under Sauron’s, both simply indulging in something comforting before--

“Hum, dee dum, hum.” The janitor, a very strange old Orc named Jeffrey, came shuffling in. “I remember back in ‘72 when I had other people to do this with me, and--oh, hullo, m’lords.” 

“What,” Melkor hissed, massaging his temples, “are you doing in here? Especially now?” 

“Well, m’lord, I normally clean around these parts this time of day, so that’s why I’m here, yep, that’s why, hum, dee dum, hum.” He shuffled in place for a moment, then started. “Oh yeah! I came in here to clean!” 

Suddenly, there was a dent in Melkor’s headboard shaped like Sauron’s head. “I am _surrounded_ by idiots.” 

“Am I counted in those?” Melkor asked. 

“No. You’re _near_ to my level intellectually. In height, not so much.” 

“I’m not that short!”

“You barely come up to my shoulder.” 

“You’re just abnormal. You and Gothmog both.” 

“Hmph. What are we going to do with Jeffrey?” 

“Oh yeah, him. Get out.” As he was saying this, he waved a hand at the door and laid back down. 

“Uh, m’lord, when should I come back?” 

“When I’m not here. Goodbye!” 

“But, m’lord, I don’t know if I should--”

“GOODBYE!”  
  


“Uh, bye then! Sorry, I guess I’ll just come back in…a week?” The old Orc shuffled away. “Hum de dum, guess I’ll go clean the throne room then…” 

Melkor sighed. “Honestly. Now give me affection.” 

“Why?” 

“JUST DO IT!”  
  


“…fine.” 

Sauron slipped an arm around Melkor and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, for which he received a reciprocal one, but on the lips. 

“Mm, ’s nice…” Melkor mumbled. He yawned, curled closer, and fell asleep. Sauron followed swiftly after, and they lay like that for hours, each simply enjoying the closeness of another being as evil as they were. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sauron and Melkor's height scale: Sauron is 8'0" and Melkor is 6'6". Yes, Sauron is calling him short as a joke. Yes, I find this funny.
> 
> The Orc janitor is based off of the character from Carol Burnett's 'The Oldest Man' skit. Look it, up, it's hilarious, and that's the voice I picture in my head for Jeffrey. No, Jeffrey is not a placeholder name, I just thought the name sounded funny. 
> 
> Please leave a comment! They give me motivation.


End file.
